We're now in the throes of dealing with Hospice and getting things set up to bring sister home to Dad's for as long as she has left. No one will say how long that is - and really it's hard to tell. Could be days. Could be months.
Her kidneys and liver are all failing - but how rapidly will that go? Jury's out.
And of course she's herself, and unhappy with any of our proposed suggestions for where to put the hospital bed and set her up. I want to say when you're the one dying, you get to choose, but at the same time, it has to work and still allow life to carry on.
Which is why she's not coming to my house. I feel guilt about it, but I can't make the boys be as quiet as she'd need, nor can I promise that I'd have the kind of time to help her as I know she wants. We're working out nursing care, but it's not the same as a family member. I know this. And yet.
So really, it seems like a family member dying can't take place without some kind of guilt. I know I did everything there was to do for Mom - but it wasn't as much as she wanted - and so there's guilt. And so it'll be the same for sister.
Whee.
This is not me trying to make her dying about me, btw, because it isn't. It's just that this is all hard. Everything is hard. And there are no perfect answers.
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